


Von's Random Drabbles

by VonWrites



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-08-26 13:43:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16682713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VonWrites/pseuds/VonWrites
Summary: Random writing I've done from my tumblr, mostly about wrestling. Varies from drabbles, full fics, challenges, etc...





	1. NAMASTE

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first writing I did as a sort of companion piece based off an edit I did at the time for fun. It was the first thing close to fanfiction I published for people to read and basically the nice reception and support was enough to get me confident in writing and posting more. The rest is history.

__  


_Yoga. It was only supposed to be a bit of a laugh. A get together with the girls before Sunday brunch with the excuse to wear your best pair of yoga pants in a warm room with other self conscious ladies. What you didn’t expect to see there at the front of the mat laid room was the tall, muscular Adonis that was your instructor. “Dean” didn’t seem like the type to do yoga at first glance, he seemed like the typical gym hunk that would scoff at the practice. You felt horrible for your mental judgment and tried to correct yourself as you struggled with even the most basic of poses. Yoga was hard. Yoga was really fucking hard._

_At first you thought Dean was just really good at his job as he placed careful hands on your body to steady yourself into your downward facing dog. But by helping you from behind and his strong, wide hands being a bit more rough on your hips than you were normally used too, your body felt more flushed than usual. It went like that for ages. The casual lingering touch when improving your posture and a flirty comment or two when class was over always had you coming back for more._

_But two could play that game. Your outfits found themselves being tighter and more revealing than you had originally come to class wearing. Whenever asked you had confided that you had gained a new found confidence and much needed body positivity from the course. You were embracing your new sexy goddess and taking life by the balls… (something you not so quietly mentioned in front of the object of your desires) so to speak._

_You should have known better than to play a waiting game with a man who taught yoga for a living. You could only tease back so much before you found your own self control and patience breaking. After all you were only a beginner and he was the master._


	2. THE ORACLE: UNCERTAIN FAITH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paring: Aleister Black x OC (The Oracle) (Bit of a slow burn for now since this is the first installment. Real blink and you miss it in this one.)
> 
> Summary: After his devastating loss to Ciampa at the hands of Gargano, Aleister Black’s personal Oracle has a crisis of faith in her own powers and begs for forgiveness.
> 
> Warning: Spoilers for NXT I guess? But it’s already been aired so idk
> 
> A/N: So… This was something different for me to do. I don’t know what happened I just got some inspiration for one little thing and then like an anthology kinda just mapped itself in my head in no chronological order so… I guess this is part one (Though I don’t number anything because the timeline is wonky)? Also I’m trying to change writing styles a bit and go back to third person POV and making still vague OC’s since I’m getting kinda tired of doing reader perspectives and I wanna spice up my writing again for practice.
> 
> Also Schatje means “little treasure”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her body was wracked with heavy sobs as no amount of apologizing could ever forgive the graves errors she had made. No matter how many tea leaves, tarot cards, and crystal balls she consulted with before his match, she never foresaw this outcome. Ciampa was a monster. A force to be reckoned with and, she had thought, was someone they were fully prepared for. But Gargano,  _Johnny fucking Gargano_ , she had never thought to look into him and what his actions could have affected her beloved. Of course those two would have their destinies intertwined, it was all so obvious to her now.

“I have failed you.” What sort of diviner was she to be if she couldn’t even guarantee that her paramour could keep his coveted title. The one thing, besides her, that he was proud of was now gone. Slipped through his fingers by something she SHOULD have seen coming. Her one purpose in life, the one thing that made her special for him, was now tainted with this failure. Surely he too had come to this discovery and he would choose to be done with her.

There he sat, cross legged in the middle of his locker room floor. It was the same serene pose that he had been in minutes prior to his match as he had listened to her predict what was sure to be their future. Now the atmosphere had changed and the air was thick was a mixture of her dread and his unsettling restrained ire. His reserve was her own personal torture as all she wanted at that point was for him to lash out at her. Take it out on her so her own self pity would be damned. She knew that he would never hurt her, that while others feared him for his mysterious nature, that he was an honorable man. A good man, though he would always correct her and warn her that “ _No man is ever truly good_ ”.

On her knees, her whole body trembled with each pitiful sniffle that came out of her.  _How selfish could she be?_  Her thoughts were bitter and chastised her weakhearted nature. She had not lost nearly as much as he had, yet there she was groveling before him like the loser she felt she was. A meek Oracle begging forgiveness to the god of darkness she had pledged her sight and heart to.

“ _Schatje_ ,” Aleister’s calm tone cut through her own self pity as he finally had broken from the trance he had been trapped in for quite some time to regain his sense of self. Leaning in close as he still sat before her, his gaze pierced her soul as he looked like a man in search of something crucial. “What does your mind’s eye see in store for Gargano?” Her eyes widened with disbelief, how could he still trust her judgement, her sight, after her pervious misgivings?

“For him?” All at once the world around her ceased to exist as the realm of possibilities opened before her. Infinite scenarios played out before her eyes and for once, there seemed to be a consensus on what was going to happen. “All I can see for him is… pain.”

His pierced lip quirked from its usually tight, stern position into what she knew to be his version of a smile. As his forehead pressed intimately against her own, she knew that he held no grudge against her. That this one unfortunate turn of events would not ruin their pact, their bond, their vows. “Good.” Tattooed hands tenderly cradled her slightly flushed cheeks as rough thumbs gently wiped away the not yet dried tears that still blemished her beautiful face. “Dry your tears  _Schatje_ , we have work to do.”


	3. DELICATE FINGERS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was from a tumblr challenge where I was set the title of a made up fic and I wrote what I thought it would be about.
> 
> Aleister Black Drabble
> 
> There was something about his hands that she had always loved.

_Aleister Black’s tattoos had always been a point of fascination for his girlfriend. They were the perfect artistic representation of himself and she for one was honored that he would give her the privilege of being able to touch them and be recounted of each story that came along with them. Her favorite though? HIs hands. Specifically the lettering on each of his fingers. Anti Hero. He would always proclaim that no man is ever truly good or evil, and while she agreed, she knew that he was not as bad as he made himself out to be. At least he never was with her. He was never harsh with her, his touches were also soft and tender. The hands that would bring pain to others could only ever bring her pleasure and comfort. Especially whenever those hands were where they were meant to be, intertwined with her own._


	4. STUPID CUPID

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge:
> 
> A Finn Balor Valentines Drabble
> 
> Valentines Day is the most popular holiday around the office. Too bad this year's designated Cupid isn't too fond of the holiday.

_Holidays around the office were always a festive occasion. It didn’t matter what holiday or whether it was a big or small one. Christmas party? You betcha. Halloween? The costume contest was to die for! Arbor day? Go trees! But a popular holiday around the office was Valentines day. Sweet and romantic treats and cards were passed around the office by that year’s designated Cupid._

_The problem was that this years Cupid was just a bit too shy for her own good and was not confident enough to even talk to her coworkers on a regular work day, now she had to shower them with little love gifts?! Having to don an uncomfortable set of angel wings and a toy bow over her simple skirt and sweater combo, Cupid looked a little more meek and miserable than usual. The task itself wasn’t so hard._

_Renee was gifted a comically giant bouquet of flowers from her literal office husband, Dean (in what she could only assume was meant to be both romantic and a practical joke since she had made crack about how he wasn’t very “romantic”. After ridding herself over the initial shock of the goofy gift, she in return only cryptically told him his gift was waiting for him later. Of course Dean was psyching himself up for some good old Valentines loving. What he did not expect was the giant life-sized teddy bear that had been stuffed into the driver’s seat of their car holding a stuffed heart that read “I love you BEARY much!”. How Cupid had managed to lug a stuffed animal that was bigger than her own body without him noticing was some sort of miracle._ _Seth was sent several Valentine cards from the various women of the office, all which he received with a smug look on his face which only made Cupid roll her eyes and walk away. She might have been shy but even she was so over his attitude. Roman was adorably sent a box of chocolates decorated with children’s cartoon characters as a gift from his wife and child._

_Cupid had been doing her job in record time, just like she worked every normal day. Efficient and effective. But anyone with eyes could see that she was actively avoiding having to give someone their Valentines the longer the work day went._

_Finn Balor was the office’s newest member, a transfer from their branch in Ireland. While they had the occasional transfer from another branch, there had never been an international one before. And especially not a handsome, **single** , international transfer. Of course, to anyone who had actually gotten to know him and not just drool at him would have found out that Finn was actually a pure sweetheart. A man with a heart of gold and a personality that could make even the most stingy office Scrooge lighten up a bit._

_It was safe to say that Cupid had found herself a bit more than smitten with the man that she happened to have a desk beside. Her social anxieties never seemed so bad with him. He somehow managed to get her in a way that no one else did. And for that alone she just fell even harder for him. Occasionally he had brought her out of her shell to share a lunch break together and talk about anything and everything they could think of. A reoccurring topic for some reason had been Legos of all things._

_But as the day went on and her bag of gifts were slowly becoming empty, Cupid was beginning to realize something she had always known. She had no chance with him. If Seth thought that he had be given the most tokens of affection that day, he would be sorely mistaken. It had looked like almost every single woman had sent something towards the Irish heartthrob in the hopes that he would notice them._

_It was nearly the end of the workday and Finn’s usual clockout time before Cupid had garnered the courage to approach him. “Hey there stranger.” Perfectly white teeth practically shined on her as he smiled. “I was beginning to think I’d never see my work bud.” Bud. That was like an arrow to the heart in like the worst way. It was like a sick Valentine’s day irony being Cupid. She was his buddy and once she got over the initial sting of it all, she did consider herself lucky to have created such a bond with the man. In all honesty he was the best kind of friend that she could have wished for… If only they could have been more…_

_“Yeah today’s been crazy.” To somehow make her point she had gently shaken the sack in her hands of her remaining Valentines charges. “So how’s your first American Valentines day treating you?” Cupid wanted to kick herself for such a stupid question. **Stupid Cupid!**  With only an easy grin and chuckle he shook his head. “It’s a lot more Hallmark-y than back home that’s for sure.” “Well it’s about to get a lot more ‘Hallmark-y’. Brace yourself Balor, you’ve  got mail.” And with that his desk was slowly being piled up with various cards and boxes of sweets. “You are a very popular man, my friend.” _ _His eyes nearly popped out of his head from the ridiculous sight. He was flattered for sure but this was a bit extreme. “You managed to beat Rollins this year and trust me that is saying something. He usually get’s all the office attention.”_

_“And what about you?” He was quick to inquire. “…Me?” The question had completely gone over her head. “What about me?” “How many did you get?” Somehow in all the lunacy that was distributing Valentines, Cupid had for once since working there had not put any thought into her sad pity party that was her never receiving a Valentine. Not in all of her time working in their office. “I um… I never get Valentines.” “Never?” “ **Ever.** ”  
_

_“Well then… I guess I’m lucky after all.” “What are you talking about?” Her head tilted as he was seen rifling through his desk drawer. “Consider me your first.” And with that, he had pulled out whatever he had been looking for in a grand gesture.  
_

_“It’s…” Her doe eyes went wide with recognition. “It’s a lego heart. Built it myself.” The look of pride on his face was enough to make her knees go weak that she had to lean against their desks. “For me?” She had wished that her frantically beating heart was as sturdy as his lego heart had looked. “Of course for you. I was um wondering if I could get Cupid to be my Valentine for this year… And possibly for future years?”  
_

_He had almost though he had done something wrong as he could spot the signs of tearing watery eyes and a quivered lip before it had broken out into the delicate smile that had him twitter-patted since his first day sat beside her. Shyly she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a gesture that he had always found himself wanting to do for her, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”_


	5. HEARTBREAKER'S ANONYMOUS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge
> 
> Jon Moxley Drabble
> 
> One breaks hearts because he can. The other broke a heart because she had to. How can two polar opposites get along? Is it just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

_There must have been something crazy in the water spreading around all the wrestlers backstage. How else could there be an explanation for all the sudden and brutal breakups between the superstars and backstage workers for there to be made a support group for those who weren’t taking their failed romances well? Even worse, there was a a “club” of sorts for the ones who broke those hearts in the first place. A group who went out to bars after shows to try and drink their guilt and other feelings away. Most of them didn’t mean to hurt the feelings of their former significant others but sometimes what once was a spark was no more. At least that had been the case for one female superstar in particular._

_The main roster had been shocked to hear that the “sweetheart” of the women’s division had broken up with her long time boyfriend who worked as a ringside medic. She just didn’t think it as fair to him to lead him on, especially when she founded the dreaded warning signs that he might want to propose while she on the other hand was losing interest._

_Jon Moxley on the other hand, he couldn’t give a shit about breaking hearts. He made it perfectly clear to every girl that he slept with: he didn’t cuddle, he didn’t stay the night, and he did **not**  do feelings. If there was a president of the “ **Heartbreakers Anonymous** ” Club as it had spitefully been named, then it would reluctantly be him._

_Mox did have to admit that he got a sick thrill out of knowing that the infallible little miss priss wasn’t so perfect after all. Every bar night he would try and get her to drink with him after making a crude toast at her suspense. “Just leave me alone Jonathan.” Cold. She was the only one brave (or just oblivious) enough to call him by his full first name, and live to tell the tale. In all honesty he had no idea why he cut her some slack and gave her the “honor” of the feat. Probably because she was such an uptight and “respectable” broad, that it would just be typical of her to call everyone by their full god given name no matter how much they didn’t want that to happen. Probably some dumb rule she learned in an etiquette class or charm school or whatever spoiled rich girls did in their youth._

_“You’ve been moping around for weeks now. You’re acting as if your fine tight ass was the one that got dumped.” “I meant it Jonathan-!” But before she could protest anymore in her always stern but polite tone he cut her off, honestly he never listened when she tried to scold him. “What’s the fucking point of feeling guilty over some limp dick pussy who was too stupid to see that you checked out ages ago. He really must have sucked in bed if Miss Manners couldn’t take one for the team for him. What does he got a tiny dick? Mommy issues? Both?” “Why are you such an asshole?!”  
_

_Slamming her drink on the bar countertop, her head had turned so hard and violently towards him that her hair had nearly whipped him so bad that it stung. “I am **so**  sorry that I can’t be like you and just screw whatever has legs and have no heart.” Her words now dripping with spite and sarcasm. Now was definitely not the right time but Mox had to admit he kinda liked this side of her. He might have liked it a little too much as he could feel a tightness in his jeans which only made him grin more. Everyone knew Mox to be a very sick man who had a thing for pain and pushing things too far. He was a glutton for punishment._

_“What?!” The fact that he was saying nothing but instead just leering at her with this hot and heavy grin that just oozed sex appeal was putting her on edge in the most infuriating and frustrating way possible. And without any warning, he just leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were as soft, plush, and sweet as he had imagined they would be. HIs lips on the other hand were rough. Cut and chaffed from years of abuse but it left a burn on her own that was begrudgingly satisfying.  
_

_It took all of her strength to pry herself from out of his arms. The next moment the sound of a harsh slap echoed even over the loud and raucous bar. The force of the impact made Moxley’s head turn. His cheek ached but it was nothing compared to what he was normally used to. But before he could make another wiseass crack, a perfectly manicured hand clawed its way into his hair and pulled him in for an even more fiery kiss._

_He didn’t do feelings which was fine by her. The only feelings she had towards him were hateful. At least, those would be the lies they told themselves in the months to come as their late night trysts became a regular thing and they began to know each other better than anyone else had ever bothered to try learning. For two people who had been brought together because of breaking hearts, their own stubbornness might be the reason why they break their own._


	6. SQUEAKY SHOES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge
> 
> Sami Zayn Drabble
> 
> Mrs. Zayn has a lot on her hands dealing with an impending migrain, a toddler, and two sets of squeaky shoes.

_She was going to kill Kevin. He just had to gift her two year old the world’s worst invention, squeaky shoes. A two year old who could barely waddle around in noisy shoes she could handle. But the 34 year old Ska loving, Ginger, French Canadien that happened to be her husband insisting on wearing the matching pair (something she had no idea was made for adults)? That was the the last straw for her sanity._

_“Sami for the love of god-” She could already feel the telltale signs of a migraine as two sets of very noisy squeaks could be heard off in the distance of the backstage arena. “There she is-!” “MOMMY!” Lighter squeaky pitterpatters became more frequent as her little angel rushed over to tackle her legs in the most heartwarming hug their arms could muster.  
_

_“There’s my baby!” Concealing the pain she had been developing, a soft smile spread across her face as she dipped down to scoop the toddler up into her arms and try and alleviate one of the things irritating her. “Mr. Zayn.” A sheepish Sami already knew that he was in the doghouse when she used that title on him._

_“The ever ravishing Mrs. Zayn.” It would have almost been romantic, almost, if it hadn’t been for the offending sounds that his feet made with every step closer towards her. Trying to test his luck, he leaned in for a kiss, to which she turned her head just in time to shower her cheek with affection rather than those lips that had captured his attention since their first time meeting years ago.  
_

_“Mon coeur…” It was a dirty move both Sami and her just how much she loved when he spoke French to her. It was the language of romance after all. “Papa got gift mommy!” Chubby little hands grasped at her top to gain her attention and for the first time since retrieving his gift, Sami was having second thoughts. “Um maybe nows not the right time for that…” He tried to backpedal but it was no use. There was no question at all that it was his child as pudgy hands were flying all over the place as a sign of excitement as childish babble about the gift continued.  
_

_“So um… No pressure, you don’t have to wear these or anything-” “Wear what?” Eyes began to narrow as she did not like where this gift talk was going. “So um… Kevin might have helped me find-” “Kevin?!” Now she absolutely did not like where this was going. “We um… might have found some shoes in your size.” “Sami?” “Yes?” “Doghouse.”  
_

_“Come on m _on coeur try them on. You can’t be mad when wearing squeaky shoes. It’s physically impossible!”__


	7. GIVE IN TO THE NIGHT (TEASER)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Ambrose is a bouncer who works at the notorious strip club, Raw. He's big, buff, mean, and always looks a bit unstable so no one would dare mess with him. The only one not afraid of him is the one girl at the club he protects more than the others. His Darlin'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So set up for this: This is a snippet/teaser of a future sexy long fic I had a sudden inspiration for. It’s a Dean x OC (Darling) where she works at a strip club and Dean is a bouncer there that takes it upon himself to personally make sure she’s always safe. And that’s about it I guess lol.

_“Hey, don’t look at him. Look at me.” Delicate hands reached out and caressed his face, thumbs tenderly stroking his stubbled cheeks. His own hands had been shaking from the pure fury. How dare that creep put his hands on her. He knew the rules. You could look at the girls, but **not**  touch. Especially not Darling. She was a special case. She was  **HIS**  girl._

_“Dean.” Her angelic voice was echoing in his mind but not yet being able to pull him back to the surface as he was practically writhing in wrath. The sleezeball who had asked for a private dance from her just minutes ago was now a bleeding mess on the asphalt of the club’s parking lot. He was lucky he was even allowed to breathe after daring to cop a feel._

_“You should get going now.” Was all she could say to the offender and in that moment she was an angel of mercy, holding back her hellhound of justice from unleashing his fury on the one who dared disrespect her. No amount of pain could have prevented the frightened man from running with his tail between his legs. Hopefully to never be seen around that club ever again. While they were physically the only two people out in the empty lot, Dean was miles away in a much darker place. He was in his head._

_“Baby. Come back to me. It’s ok. It’s over now.” And just like that she was there. This doe eyed, innocent girl. His Darling. “Welcome back baby. I missed you.” There was no fear in her eyes or any hesitation as she was quick to make an easy light of the situation. She had seen him nearly brutalize a man who had dared to cross a line, and yet she was still there by his side with a smitten smile on her perfectly pouty lips._

_The moment could have almost been deemed as sweet if not for her body trembling like a leaf as the cold night chill crept up her scantily clad body. The white lace babydoll over her matching satin lingerie was suitable for the humid and musky strip club, but it was not meant to brave the outdoors in any way shape or form. No matter just how sexy that form was._

_A stern frown spread across his handsome features, but it never detracted from his appeal to her. In fact, Darling had always mused that he was reminiscent of a bulldog. Her big scowling, but lovable, bulldog. Misunderstood by society but deep down was just a big sweet puppy who on occasion would slobber all over her. “You shouldn’t be out here in that.” He grunted before his arm draped over her shoulder to protectively escort her back inside. His own body heat brought a comfort that nothing else could bring. No one dared spare the couple a second glance in fear that they might set off the lunatic again._

_“You know…” Her voice was barely a whisper as he caught her in thought just over the pulsing club beat. He hated (not really) just how pretty she was when she was deep in thought, her plump lower lip caught between her teeth and her cheeks flushed even under the dingy neon lights. The look alone could bring any man to knees and when he was allowed to let his guard down, Dean had let himself have the honor to be that man as he worshipped her like the goddess she was. “That guy did pay the hour for the room upfront… It would be such a shame to waste all that time and money.“_

_His brain must have been on the fritz because he couldn’t even put together what she had been suggesting. A blank look and a head tilt made him look like the lost puppy she adored. Taking charge of the opportune moment, her smaller frame weaseled it’s way out of his protective hold. Her hands finding his own to guide him as she expertly maneuvered to the private dance rooms backwards in her 7 inch heels. A skill that never ceased to amaze him._

_“I had been promised the ’ **Honeymoon Experience** ’. It would sure be a shame if I had been left all on my own for my ’ **wedding night** ’. I didn’t even get to finish my first dance.” Whenever she put on this little character of hers, the sweet virginal bride was a fan favorite that men paid ridiculous amounts of money to see, Dean knew that it was all just a job and that there was never really any of her heart in the game. But he couldn’t look away from her hypnotic eyes and saw that could only be referred as ‘his spark’. The naughty twinkle that glittered in her eyes when she gave him that oh so special loving treatment that was reserved for him and him alone._

_When they had come upon the room, Darling had done something that she had never opted for whenever visiting the Honeymoon Suite with any of the John’s that accompanied her in the past. On the handle, a warning sign had been hung, “Just Married. **DO NOT DISTURB!** ”._

_He knew he was in for a good time. Especially since he was with the woman he deep down wanted to be his real blushing bride…_


	8. CURBSTOMPS AND BEER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge
> 
> Seth Rollins Drabble
> 
> t was Raw's main event. Seth Rollins vs Finn Balor. It was going to be a match for the ages, or at least that's what Finn's manager Sweets' believed it was going to be. But an annoying tag team partner, two camo clad husbands, and a curbstomp had to ruin her night. Would a late night encounter involving a few beers bring Sweets closer with the man that was currently her client's enemy? Or will she ignore the magnetic pull that is bringing them together and leave things the way they are?

_It was absolute chaos. It was only supposed to be a singles match. Finn Balor vs Seth Rollins. But that little twerp Jason Jordan just had to go and “back up” his tag partner but that was fine because Finn had not only his Good Brothers by his side but also his ever loyal manager. The WWE Universe often joked and labeled her the “Demon King’s Royal Advisor” but everyone else in the ring and backstage just called her “Sweets”. While he didn’t truly need a manager to take care of him, it was nice to have someone do all the menial tasks while he focused on his wrestling. They were a good team and also good friends. Finn had no reason to worry, he had the Good Brothers and a Good Sister on his side._

_The match was going great, a good back and forth between two of the company’s top guys. Sweets would have never admitted it out loud but if Finn had never become her client, she wouldn’t have minded being manager for Seth. For all the times he could be cocky and brash, there were equal moments where he could be down to earth and dare she think it, charming. There had been moments in the past before shows where he would strike up conversation with her and flirt in catering when Finn wasn’t around and she found herself enjoying his company._

_But she couldn’t think about that right now. Right now he was the enemy and currently rolling up her client for a two count. “Come on Finn! Kick his ass!” Sweets yelled as she slapped the mat to rile up the Irishman. The fire in her eyes clearly sparking an amused look on Seth which made him pause for a second to catch his breath and foolishly send a not so subtle wink her way. Her cheeks burned as he would blatantly do such a thing in front of not only their coworkers, but to the whole WWE universe live and watching from home. Surely it was just a mind game brought to her by the Architect. His one moment cockiness gave Finn an opening to attack the Kingslayer._

_The match was going so well until the Bar decided to interfere. Sweets was absolutely livid when those camo kilt wearing idiots came down to the ring and while trying to go after Jordan, nearly took out Sweets which Karl and Luke did not take too kindly to and started to brawl ringside. It was utter chaos and Sweets knew better than to get into the middle of it and stayed as far away from the action as she could, running to a free corner of the ring as Finn foolishly focused on the outside and did his signature flip. “Finn! Get your ass in there and win the damn match!” It was moments like that, that Sweets knew why she was the man’s manager. She had to sometimes be his focus and yell at him to get him back to the matter at hand._

_He had almost done it. Seth had been set up for a Coup De Grace and Sweets was nearly bouncing at the ringside when out of nowhere he rolled out of the way. Just as Finn was about to set himself on his opponent again, Cesaro had the gall to try and interfere. But luckily Finn was too aware and had managed to get the Swiss Cyborg out of the equation and was about to run the ropes to finish the match when the bane of Sweet’s existence, Jason bloody Jordan, tripped him._

_Sweets had nearly run over to slap the ever loving shit out of the illegitimate Angle when the absolute unimaginable happened. She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth in shock as Seth had performed a Curb Stomp on Finn. A move he had not used in years and that Sweets had never seen up close. It was tragic to see her client, and best friend, lose to the maneuver. But in an odd way, it was exhilarating to see performed so close._

_It was heartbreaking to sit next to Finn in the middle of the ring and carefully check over the welt he was forming over his eye from the finisher as the Good Brothers chased the tag champs out of the ring. “You’ll get him next time, Bubba.” She whispered softly as she gave him a comforting hug. The crowd was on Finn’s side as chants of “Balor Club” and “Too Sweet” filled the arena as Raw went off the air._

_“I need a drink.” Was the first thing Sweets said as the Balor Club got back to their hotel and she jumped out of their rental SUV. “You stress me out way too much, Bubba.” She said, pressing a kiss to Finn’s temple before making a beeline to the hotel bar and waved a half-assed goodnight to whoever chose not to join her. Since she and Finn had no house shows scheduled for the immediate future, Sweets was going to enjoy her night and ordered a beer as she sat in an empty corner of the bar._

_“Is this seat taken?” A voice whispered in her ear and nearly made her choke on her alcohol as she whipped around and saw a fresh Seth Rollins leaned in close behind her seat. “I suppose no one is claiming ownership of said seat.” She tried to play it cool she went back to her drink. Now was not the time to be a total dork in front of “the man”.  
_

_“Can I sit here?”  
_

_“It’s a free country.” She shrugged as he pulled up on the stool beside her and ordered a beer for himself. “All her drinks are on me tonight.” He left no other say on the matter as he passed his card over to the bartender to make a tab.  
_

_“I can’t be bought over that easily, Crossfit Jesus. Considering what you did to my client earlier, I should still consider you public enemy number one.”  
_

_“ **Should**?” He was a smart man and zoned in on her particular word choice. She should have considered him the enemy but deep down, she knew that it would all be for nothing. Deep down, she knew she couldn’t have negative feelings towards him.  
_

_“I’ve decided for the time being that my beef is with Jordan and not you.” She cooly deflected as she took a sip of her beer and pointedly tried to look anywhere other than her new drinking companion.  
_

_The heat of his gaze directed at her made her whole body warm with glee. It was the longest amount of time outside of work that the two had spent around each other, and she was the center of his attention. Men and women around the world would have killed to be in her place right now and she knew it._

_“All things considered, you had a good match. I wish the Bar and your lackey didn’t interfere, you and Finn deserved clean match the whole way through…” Sweets sighed as she thought back to the match and mulled over what could have been. After all, she had always considered herself a wrestling fan first and a manager second. It was clear to anyone who knew her that she held a great love for the sport and everything it had to offer. It was made her so endearing to the fans and especially a certain Architect that was sitting beside her._

_“But I have to admit, the way you took advantage of the situation and won it was very cunning and underhanded of you-”  
_

_“I prefer resourceful and opportunistic.” He corrected her while flashing a charming smile her way, she couldn’t tell if it was the beers that got her to loosen up or just his flirting that got her to put her guard down that got her to break out into a fit of giggles at his suggestion.  
_

_“I bet you do.” Another sip was taken before she raised her bottle towards him in a sort of mock toast. “Oh right, congrats on bringing the Curbstomp back. I have to admit, it nearly got a pop out of me seeing you pull it off. It was an honor seeing it live. Though you nearly gave my poor Finn a concussion.”  
_

_Then just like that the mood suddenly changed. Any cheeky glint in Seth’s eye was gone and replaced with a more dark and somber mood at the her affectionate mention of Finn._

_“Why are you down here right now drinking and not up there tending to “your man”.” Sweets didn’t miss out on just how those last words sounded so forced and jaded from his lips. What was his sudden problem with Finn? She had thought that the two at least held a mutual respect for each other. What was the sudden change?  
_

_“Bubba is a big boy. He can handle himself. Just like how I’m a big girl and I can go out and have a drink if I want to. I swear him and the Good Brothers like to hover over me so much that it’s like they really are my older brothers.”  
_

_While she absolutely adored Finn, Karl, and Luke there were times that Sweets wished that she could be treated a little more like any other girl on the roster. She wasn’t just some manager, there had been a point in time that she could have been legitimate threat to the women’s division. But things changed and so did her position. She just wished the guys could remember that at times. She was a manager, not a valet._

_“That’s why I like hanging around you so much Seth. You just get me, you know?” It was hard to explain, but she just felt easier around the man. Dare she say it, happier too.  
_

_“Not like an older brother hovering?” Would it have been bad if Sweets thought she heard a bit of hope in his voice at the query. Was there a hint of longing in him that she also had?  
_

_“Definitely not like an older brother hovering.” The thoughts she had about him late at night would have been really problematic if she had thought of him as a brother figure. The thought of him hovering around her didn’t seem so bad given a different context to the situation.  
_

_“Is that so? And just to make thing clear, you and Finn…?” The way he let the question hang threw Sweets through a loop. She was normally one of the brighter people in the company but she was gonna let her failure to connect two and two together on the drink she had.  
_

_“Me and Finn what?” Her eyebrow quirked and her head slightly tilted  
_

_“Don’t make me ask, Sweetheart.” Never in her life had she seen Seth look so unsure of himself. He was always booming with confidence backstage around their coworkers but the Seth before her now was vulnerable. Something she knew that he had chosen to be around her and not anyone else.  
_

_“Do you…” The gears in her head were turning and suddenly all his past word choices were clicking together. “Her man”, her and Finn…_

_Her shocked gasp and her near miss of spilling her drink over herself alerted the other patrons of the hotel bar which only fueled to both hers and Seth embarrassment. Both their faces were heated a tinge of pink even under the low bar room light as they gave sheepish looks.  
_

_“You don’t think that me and FINN.” The mere mention of his name she had to practically whisper out in complete horror at the implication. “Oh no no no. He’s like a brother to me. Like a legit good brother.” And she was 100% sure that she was just a sister to him. That’s why they worked so well together, they were not only best friends but practically siblings that always looked out for each other.  
_

_“Oh thank god.” Now with that knowledge out in the open, Seth visibly was less tense and went back to his drink. It was as if that new development had eased whatever mental tension he had been going through for the past few minutes.  
_

_“Were you…” No, he couldn’t have been. Surely it had to all be in Sweets’ mind as she found his reaction peculiar, even for him. “Were you JEALOUS?!” The Seth Rollins jealous over what kind of possible relationship she and Finn had? More likely than she thought.  
_

_“What? Pshhh no!” Subtlety was not his strongest skill as he nearly swallowed his beer down the wrong pipe, droplets of the amber liquid dribbling down his beard.  
_

_Acting before thinking, her hand reached out to gently wipe away the droplets with her thumb. Her hand lingering as she cradled his cheek. Their eyes locked onto each other, lost in the chemistry the two had been trying to deny for ages._

_“What are we doing, Seth?” Sweets whispered as she felt so conflicted. Should she push forward and just let herself go for what she had always wanted? Or stop and forever wonder what could have been?  
_

_Timidly she bit her lip as her thumb continued to stroke his cheek in such adoring affection. Seth’s eyes couldn’t tear away from her pink lips, just begging to be kissed by him._

_“Something we should have done ages ago.” Was all he could say as he leaned in and captured her lips the kiss that the both of them had been waiting for since they had met. Sweets swore she could feel a sort of static shock as he lips met her own. But instead of jumping away, she could only lean in more, trying to press herself as close as possible, nearly falling off her own stool and onto his lap.  
_

_“Whoops.” They giggled as his strong arms wrapped around her waist and adjusted so that she was comfortable on his lap. The bartender was the only one paying attention to the two as he decided to cut the two off for the night and finish the bill.  
_

_“That was nice.” Her arms wrapped around his neck and just let herself enjoy their intimate moment, almost afraid that if she pulled away it would all be over. Right now she felt like Cinderella at the ball with her prince and she hoped that midnight would never come.  
_

_“Yeah it was… Hey can I walk you to your room?” They way he offered to walk her back practically made her swoon. He was being a regular romantic.  
_

_“I’d really like that.” She spoke honestly before finding her courage and pressing another kiss against his lips. It was chaste, but it was just as good as the first.  
_

_The elevator ride to her floor was excruciatingly long and painfully awkward as they found themselves trapped in the back along with several of their coworkers. Both tried to keep a respectable distance between each other as they stood side by side, their faces staring at the doors straight ahead and trying not to draw any attention to themselves. The only thing that kept Sweets nerves at bay was when she felt a large, warm hand slip into her own. In her peripheral vision she could spot the edge of Seth’s lip barely quirk failing to conceal a grin as he squeezed her palm._

_She didn’t know what they were doing or just how far they were going to take it, but everything about their little secret was exhilarating to her._

_The elevator ping informed her floor and she politely weaved her way through the crowd, kindly bidding goodnight to everyone with a smile as Seth silently followed behind her, acting as if he was coincidentally headed in the same direction._

_The moment the elevator doors shut and they were alone, Seth’s strong arms wrapped around Sweets’ waist and this time kissed her with the heated passion that only semi secrecy could bring._

_“Seth! We’re still in the hall!” She meekly protested with a weak voice. Her eyes were closed and she felt a tad light headed from having her breath taken away by his sudden passion. His dark amber eyes smoldered with what she could only describe as an intense desire that made her legs weak and knees buckle.  
_

_Swiftly he was able to react and sweep her into his arms before she could hit the ground. “Your room. Show me. Now.” Kiss after kiss he placed on random areas of her exposed skin from her face to her neck as he carried her in the direction of her room._

_She was silently praying a thanks to the wrestling gods that she was able to book a single room for herself and that Finn sharing far away with Karl and Luke on another floor._

_Slipping the keycard into the slot was harder to do when being carried while also having a very amorous man leaving not so tin love bites to her neck which made her mewling for more. She had nearly dropped her card when Seth’s tongue gave a long swipe up her collar bone._

_They slipped into her room with no more issues and he made a direct path to her bed. The couple had been a bit too excited as Seth tripped over his own feet and sent Sweets falling out of his arms and spread on her back against the mattress._

_Her hair feathered around her and her arms draped over her body as her gorgeous chest heaved with every breath. She looked as much the erotic angel that Seth had always thought she could be as he had fawned over her for months._

_Taking a shaky breath, she admired the man before her. Handsome face, beautiful hair, broad shoulders, strong arms to hold her, a perfect crossfit body to press against her in all the right ways. How could she have gotten so lucky?_

_“You do realize that this is most likely a conflict of interest and very unprofessional.”  
_

_“It’s a good thing you’re off the clock right now.”  
_

_“That’s not how that works.” She worried.  
_

_“Babe just for once can you pretend that it does?”  
_

_“… I’ll think about it.”  
_

_Making use of his time, his hands were busy slipping off his shirt, hoping that his bare chest would give her some more temptation and relieve some of her anxiety. “If you give me until the morning, I’m sure I can make a convincing argument.”_

_“I’ll give you until the morning. And if I’m not convinced… Maybe we can try for a few more mornings afterwards?” Sweets wanted to make one thing very clear, whatever they were going to do she was **NOT** going to be a one night stand. If Seth wanted her, he was going to have more than once and he would have to be crazy to deny that.  
_

_“Baby I love the way you think. You can have me for as many morning as you want until you get tired of me. But trust me, I’ll have you wanting more and more. I promise.”  
_

_“I know. Now shut up and show me how you burn it down.”_


	9. THE LUNATIC'S DOLL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge
> 
> Dean Ambrose Drabble
> 
> Dolly is finally get her chance to have her own WWE Action Figure/Doll and Dean is proud of her.

_“I can’t believe it! My own doll!” Dolly was absolutely over the moon when the WWE merchandise team had told her that she was next in line to get her own action figure/doll._

_Ever since she was a little girl, all Dolly wanted to be was a wrestler. For years she had spent her time playing with Barbies but instead of having them do fashion shows or play make believe princess, she was throwing them around and pretending they were in no DQ matches, much to the chagrin of the other little girls her age._

_When the news finally hit her that very soon, other little girls would be mirroring her past actions but this time having an authentic figure that was herself, she felt her heart swell with such pride and honor. Large, fierce tears began to well up in her eyes as she got emotional about the good news. Something that had immediately alarmed her long time boyfriend who had she had been talking too._

_Dean Ambrose was the lunatic fringe. As crazy as crazy could get but as he witnessed his long time girlfriend get over emotional and nearly cry over a toy, he wondered just how sane she was. Not that, that was a bad thing. If anything he loved her even more for it. It showed that she was truly perfect for him._

_“Come on Dollface, no crying.” He smiled as he opened his arms out and went over to squeeze her into his infamous bear hug. “I hate it when you stain those pretty cheeks with tears.” Leaning in close he pressed a kiss to a wet spot, in a lame attempt at trying to stop a falling tear. She could only giggle at his sloppy kiss, he was always goofy when it came to giving affection and she absolutely adored it.  
_

_“You think they’ll put us in a two pack?” He joked, wiggling his eyebrows at the suggestion. “Think about it, an Ambrose Asylum Deluxe Set. Comes with you, me, and Mitch. A happy little family.” Leave it to Dean to come up with such a thing.  
_

_“I like that idea. You should run that by the merch guys. I’m sure they’d love to make more stuff with you on it. I wouldn’t mind also sharing this great honor of Mitch being immortalized in plastic form as well.” While some people in the company were a bit intimidated to work with a man known as “unstable” no one could deny that Dean was what you would call a “draw” and there was just something so charismatic about him. Dolly considered herself forever blessed that he had chosen to be with her.  
_

_“Maybe I will…” The gears were clearly turning in his head but Dolly knew better than to try and figure out what Dean was thinking. His way of reasoning and logic were way too complicated to try and figure out so she just left everything as it was.  
_

_All talk of dolls and toy sets had been dropped until a week later when Dean had come back to his and Dolly’s shared locker room after being mysteriously missing for quite some time._

_“Dean! We have a tag match later tonight where the hell have you been?!” Her boyfriend had been known to wander around on his own for stretches of time to clear his head before a match but usually he would tell her. She had been worried sick when he had just been missing, knowing fully well not to even bother calling him since he seemed to be anti phone even in his best moments._

_“Sorry Doll, I just got out of a meeting with the merch department. I took what you said to heart and put my ideas past them. They said they’d think about it. I made a very convincing argument. If wrestling doesn’t work out i think I got a real knack for marketing.” Dolly knew better, that was probably their very polite way of trying to herd Dean’s more interesting ideas without having to offend the man but she decided not to say anything.  
_

_“Oh right which reminds me. Guess what they gave to me to show you.” It was only just then that Dolly realized that his arms had been behind his back the whole time. While it was not a normal pose he would take, Dean had been known to do weirder. Her eyes widened and her body was visibly jittering with glee as she had an idea what it could be._

_“Show me! Show me! Show me!” Her hands reached out in a grabby motion and she didn’t bother to contain her excitement as she tried to grab behind him. Dean couldn’t help but help but be cheeky and try to box her out from getting what was behind his back.  
_

_“Now before I show you, I just want to tell you just how proud I am of you Really Doll. I know this means a lot to you.” Staring into his deep ocean blue eyes, Dolly could tell that he meant every word he said. When it came to true emotions and matters of the heart, he had promised to always be real with her and she promised the same thing.  
_

_“Thank you Baby. I love you so much.” Standing on the tips of her toes, her hands gentle cradled his face to guide his lips to hers in a loving kiss. He had been with her through every major milestone of her career.  
_

_He had been one of the first people she had bumped into backstage on the night of her debut on the main roster. He had been her partner for her first ever mixed tag match. He as the first to congratulate her on her first ever number one contendership and afterwards, the first to console her after she had lost her chance at the title and her frightening brush with almost suffering an injury. As “unstable” as people thought he was, Dolly knew Dean Ambrose to be her rock. Even when she was at her lowest, he was there to pick her up and stay by her side. For better and for worse… Even if the two had never officially spoken those vows to each other._

_“So before I show it to you, I just gotta let you know that your doll may or may not come in a set. It entirely depends on how you react.”  
_

_Dolly was so confused. She didn’t remember the merch team saying anything about her doll being in a set. There wasn’t really a chance that they had listened to Dean and made an Ambrose Asylum Deluxe Set was there?_

_“Dean?” She was wary of where he was taking this but still never the less excited as he slowly brought out the box he had been hiding behind his back.  
_

_Shock was plastered all over her face and before she could even think, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her hands covered her mouth even though no words could possibly come out from them. She was absolutely speechless._

_“So what do you say Dollface?”  
_

_The next day the WWE universe had practically exploded all over twitter and instagram when the notification had popped up that Dolly had uploaded a new picture to her account._

_The picture was of a Dean Ambrose action figure posing with her newly made figure in it’s arms. It wasn’t hard to miss the massive diamond ring that her doll had been wearing as a necklace (a feat very difficult to pull off but she had been adamant that it be displayed._ _The caption under it was what had sparked talk all over the town._

_**“Good news: I got a doll! Bad News: This set is one of a kind! Do you guys think these will make great toppers for our wedding cake? Yay or nay? #ISaidYes #AmbroseWeddingPlaySet #LunaticsDoll4Eva #hashtagthatsumbitch #DeanToldMeToWriteThatLastOne** _


	10. LOVE POTION #69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Made Up Fic Title Challenge
> 
> Finn Balor Drabble
> 
> Halloween for Monday Night Raw means all sorts of tricks and treats. What if Raw's resident witch gets a little in over her head after accidentally giving a Demon King the wrong potion?

What kind of crazy pills had creative been taking lately? When the Queen of Darkness and Witchcraft had been called up from NXT, it wasn’t so she could be turned into some cheesy cartoon stereotype of her gimmick. It might have been a Halloween episode of Raw but she still had principles. She should have been out in the ring wrestling. Not cutting various backstage segments where she wore a pointy hat and did “magic” on behalf of any superstar who asked of her. She knew her worth and it was more than whatever this was.

One particularly annoying reoccurring segment that she could not believe she was a part of was having various female superstars beg her to brew the “ultimate love potion”. It felt wrong on so many levels not only for the women’s division being reduced one big romantic storyline but the implications of said potion. No self respecting witch would brew such a thing. There were few things in this world that she would never let her true magic touch, and love was one of them.

The love potion angle wasn’t supposed to go anywhere. It was just a little treat to give to the online community so their little shipping hearts could wander. She had never expected that at the end of the night, the Demon King himself made the final stop during her last segment. The “extraordinary man who did extraordinary things” had caught her eye on more than one occasion in the past. His aura had always felt different from the others. It reminded her of herself in a way and it was oddly alarming yet calming.

“The Demon King graces me with his presence.” A cool smile spread across her lips as she respectfully curtseyed for the “royal”. It was obvious the two supernatural beings had a chemistry of sorts. Something interesting and enigmatic. “How may I be of service to you on this all hallows eve?”

The demon wasn’t out to play for the night, the audience could tell from the casual dressing of just his trunks and leather jacket but just by peering into his shocking blue eyes, the witch knew that he was just scratching to the surface.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been brewing potions to make people stronger. I thought I’d give it a try.” Just like all the men on the roster, he wanted to be the best. To be the one on top and hold the true power. After all, he had been the first to reach that mountain top then had it unfairly taken away. Other men that had asked, she denied harshly. Almost insulted that they would try and use her for their gain but him? He was the only one she deemed worthy.

“I may have something in the works for you.” With a flourished twirl of her black clad body, her attentions went to the table behind her with various bottled potions. But Finn being the daring man himself had set his eyes on the bubbling cauldron that was practically calling his name. Fortuned favored the bold as he took a cup and took a healthy swig of a smoking concoction.

“No!”

The witch dropped a vial as she had witnessed his actions. “That potion wasn’t meant for you!” There were few moments that the WWE Universe bore witness to the witch lose her eery cool and look genuinely shocked.

“I don’t know what yer talking about. I feel better already. And to prove it, I’m going to beat a certain TGIFridays manager in honor of lovely The Witch Queen.” If the witch had looked unsettled before, the Universe was in for a surprise as she downright looked flustered as the Irish man had taken her hand and gracefully placed a kiss upon her knuckles, in a very gentlemanly fashion. There was no doubting what potion he had just taken.

The witch had been wracked with nerves as she stood by the gorilla watching the match on a monitor near by. That foolish man! How could he just go and drink a potion without even knowing it’s true contents?! How could he be so reckless?! She had never brewed a real love potion before and she was terrified of the side effects that could befall on the mortal man. Though even if he had not taken the potion, deep down she would have worried for him regardless.

But as she watched his match not once did she see any weakness. He was fast, he was agile, and he was strong. Perhaps the potion did give him some sort of strength? But surely the idea of the power of love was folly and whatever advantage he had was not because he fought for HER? Right?

Her thoughts were interrupted as bell rung out and the universe went wild. His music echoed through the stadium celebrating his win. She had to admit, as he walked up the ramp with his arms raised and a confident smile on his face never had there been a man who looked as handsome as him. Victory was a look he wore well. Victory suited him.

The moment he stepped back behind the curtain she had her clawed hand in his shoulders pushing him towards what the other superstars had deemed her “broom closet”. One final push and a locked door was all that needed to be done before she spun on her heels to unleash he well kept fury.

“You have got to be the most infuriatingly charming idiot I have ever seen! You of all people should know NOT to mess with unknown magic!” Her words were harsh but only because there was true worry in her heart. “What if something had gone wrong? For all you know I could have accidentally turned you into a chicken!”

His head titled to the side in amusement as he watched her fret over his health and safety. A queen as strong and confident as herself showing such vulnerability for him of all people spoke more than any of the words coming from her mouth.

“Now you are going to sit here quietly and recover from that match while I brew you an antidote.” Just as she was about to turn her attention to her cauldron, his hand reached out and gently grasped her wrist pulling her back towards him and into his arms. Even through her clothes she could feel just how hot and sweaty his adonis like body was. All firm and perfect. While the gods had carved him from marble, the devils painted him with sin.

“Now ya don’t gotta be doing anything like that luv.” His voice was soft and low, a sweet rumble that made her weak in the knees, just barely being held up by his strong arms. No! She couldn’t be distracted right now. Not when he was under the influence of magic. It just wasn’t right.

“I must Finn. The potion-”

“Didn’t work.”

Silence filled the room as she stared at him with a blank look of pure confusion. Of course her potion worked. It was HER potion after all.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was a perfectly brewed love potion. It would have any man fall head over heels in love.”

“Ah but I’m not any man, now am I luv?” His face was hovering dangerously closer to her own as they spoke. The grin on his face was coy and his eyes while they were light with mischief, there was a darkness swirling in those hypnotic irises. A vortex of raw dark energy that could have only been the work of Balor.

“But your match. Your… dare I call it flirting?” Being so close to him was dangerous. The pure sex appeal radiating from both their bodies was intoxicating and she felt drunk just from his touches and voice alone. Any more attention from him might just prove lethal in her case if she was not careful.

“You can’t trick a man into falling in love with ya… If he was already in love in the first place… We’ve been dying to make a move. I wanted to wait until Valentine’s day but Balor had other ideas.” It was actually pretty adorable to see him so shy as he shrugged sheepishly. Never did she once think that he might actually reciprocate the feelings that she held for him but was too timid to speak out on them for so many reasons.

“Why me?” She wondered out loud, not even realizing her embarrassing query.

“You have no idea just how magical you are do ya? You’ve had me bewitched at first glance since NXT years ago.” He admit with no trouble at all. He did not falter and she could sense that there was no charms or outside influence of any kind in his admission. He was speaking from his heart plain and true.

“I never thought a man as truly wonderful as you would even take any notice in me…” Her eyes were faced down to the ground in meekness. She was not use to such attention from anyone. It was unsettling but also thrilling. Her heart had never beat as such a frantic pace, she worried that he would be able to feel it against his own chest.

His strong and confident hand cradled her chin and carefully raised her head so that they could be eye to eye. “No dropping yer gaze anymore luv. We’re equals tha two of us. The others wouldn’t understand but every king needs his queen. And it looks like I finally found mine.”

And just like that their mysterious pact was sealed with a kiss filled with raw passion and the darkest of magics that only hell could offer.


	11. Knocked Up/Locked Down (Part 1?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paring: Dean Ambrose x OC (Sweetpea)
> 
> Summary: Dean Ambrose was sentenced to hard time in the county jail to “find himself”. He had no idea that he’d end up finding more than that with the help of his asshole cellmate’s pregnant ex-girlfriend.
> 
> Warning: A lot of swearing. Ciampa is a real asshole in this.
> 
> A/N: So obviously I got inspiration for this because of Dean’s new look. This got really out of hand and I just wanted all the romantic tropey goodness.

"T-tommaso, remember our last night before your trial-… No that's not it. Tommaso, I know we agreed that I would be on birth control but sometimes it's not 100% and you don't like wearing condoms- Argh no that's even worse!"

Of all the places for a woman to be having an existential crisis, the visiting room of the county prison was definitely not the best place to have one. Sitting before the plate glass window, nearly having a panic attack waiting around for her boyfriend for their regular visits.

"What do you want Sweetpea?" It had become a well known fact that Tommaso Ciampa was not a very pleasant man to deal with. Not even to his girlfriend of nearly a year. He never smiled, he never even said hi or asked how she was doing in all the time she had known him. If anyone had ever seen the two out in public before his arrest, they would have never been able to tell the two were together. To any wandering eye, they would have thought that Ciampa generally disliked the girl.

How the wide eyed sweetheart with the heart of gold had gotten together with the man known as the Blackheart, the world will never know. Sweetpea was too good for him, what did she even see in the guy? Was he holding something over her?

"Hi Tommaso." Her meek voice even meeker as her body was nearly hunched over, as if to hide something. "How have you been?"

She knew that he wasn't for small talk and most likely he would ignore her inquiries. But it was still polite of her to have tried. After all, what kind of girlfriend would be if she did not show that she did actually care about him. Prison wasn't going to change that.

"What.Do.You.Want." He was straight to the point as always.

"Remember when I had to miss our visit yesterday?"

"No."

Her eyes squeezed together, she was ashamed to say that it did sting to hear that he didn't even notice that she was gone. Week after week she had made it her mission to visit him at the same time and day to try and make a pleasant little routine for him. Something for him to look forward to, to help him keep going for his sentence.

But he didn't care. This wasn't a cool front that he put on to make him look tough on the outside. Sweetpea knew that he had no reason to lie. He just didn't care.

"I was at the hospital... I had to see a doctor."

"So what, you dying?"

"... No." In a way, it was quite the opposite. Instead of the subject of death, Sweetpea was bringing life to the world.

"I'm pregnant."

The words were barely a whisper as she had finally let go of the terrible secret that she had been keeping for the past 24 hours. The secret that had been eating at her for every second that she had to hold it in.

"Bullshit."

Her hand instinctively went to touch her still flat stomach, a sort of gesture to show how offended she was by his own disbelief.

"It's true!" Sweetpea was never one to raise her voice, especially when directed at her intimidating boyfriend, but after hours of being nauseous, peeing onto sticks and into cups, and experiencing her first mood swings she was allowed to stand up for herself.

"I-I have the scan to prove it." Frantically digging the picture out of her cluttered purse, she pressed it to the heavy glass.

The look on Tommaso Ciampa's face darkened as she stared at the proof.

"Who did you fuck?!"

"No one! I swear! I've only ever been with you baby-"

"Don't call me that!" She should have known that using that word again would set him off. Most things in life could set off the man. The fire in his eyes was bright and filled with fury. If he wasn't careful, the prison guards would have to intervene. His anger problem was had gotten him arrested in the first place, if he didn't watch himself he would only be making things worse.

"Tommaso, please." Slowly becoming hysterical, she tried to plead with him for whatever reason. She couldn't do this alone. Her friends and family had all abandoned her the moment she chose to be with the clearly unstable man.

"Get the fuck outta here. We're done."

* * *

"Ciampa! You got a visitor." A prison guard informed the man from outside his cell. The man being spoken to had made no move or indication that he was even listening as he laid in his bunk. "Ciampa-"

"I heard you!" The harsh bark nearly had the guard quaking in his shoes, but to the only other person in that cell, he was just being an annoying hot headed little bitch.

Dean Ambrose must has pulled the short straw in life a few too many times to have been saddled with the luck he had. Some of the misfortunes that been given to him, was his own wrong doing. He had been young and stupid from a bad part of town with no real positive outlook on the future. Petty crimes and stints in juvy seemed to decorate his colorful young past. It was only a matter of time all those offenses piled up and the one time he was actually trying not to go to jail, he got caught from the most minor of things.

A stupid bar brawl that got a little out of hand. He had been deemed too dangerous for society and needed to be put away for a long time to "reflect upon his actions".

He would have gladly done it too, if he hadn't been punished with sharing a damn cell with the constantly bitching Tommaso Ciampa. That seemed to be a worse sentence than his actual jail time.

"Tell her to fuck off." That seemed to shake Dean back to his senses as his cellmate made no move to leave. For the past few weeks that douchebag had a cute girl coming around to visit him. Did he actually know how rare that was? Not even Dean's best friends, the guys he considered to be his brothers, would bother to visit him that regularly.

Ciampa was just too much of a pussy to deal with her anymore because he knocked her up? Dean barely got any sleep the night before because ever since his cellmate had stormed back from his visitation, he wouldn't shut up about it.

In Dean's eyes it was a simple matter. He fucked up, he didn't wrap it up, he knocked her up. He might have been behind bars but the piece of shit still had the obligation to take care of her.

"She's not my problem." The prison guard quipped.

"She's not mine either now."

And there it was. That was the coward that he had to put up with for weeks. He was too chicken shit to even see his girl and take responsibility. It made Dean sick.

Not being able to stand another second in the same cell, Dean left to go clear his head.

He just needed to clear his head for a bit. Get that incessant nagging out of his mind and lower his ever climbing heart rate and blood pressure.

Dean didn't even really notice that he had been heading in the direction of the visiting room. It was just where his feet so happened to take him. He wasn't a man who thought much about fate or destiny, just coincidence. It was funny how his outlook on the subject would change after he had met HER.

* * *

_Sweetpea._ What was sure to be a darling little term of endearment sounded nothing but condescending when coming out of Tommaso Ciampa's mouth. Dean had caught a glimpse of the girl once or twice as he passed by during visiting hours. She was such a cute little thing that should have been hanging off the arm of some rich pretty boy. Not that ugly mug that was her boyfriend. Or ex, if Ciampa's earlier bitching had indicated.

The prison guards in charge of overseeing visitations all looked at Dean with the most unamused look of skepticism on their faces.

"Ciampa sent me." Was all the reasoning he needed before they all backed off.

With a tired huff, Dean plopped himself down on the seat that was clearly not meant for him and picked up the phone receiver for communication.

"He's not coming." In hindsight, Dean probably could have broken the news better to the woman who was a complete stranger to him. But since being locked up, his lack of social skills seemed to worsen.

"W-what?" Sweetpea had always acknowledged that prison could be a strange place filled with all sort of strange people. But never had a completely new and different man try to talk to her. Especially if there was an understanding of who's girl she was.

"My limpdick of a cellmate. He's too much of a fucking pussy to tell you to your face. He's not coming."

The look of complete heartbreak and devastation made Dean completely regret just how blunt and insensitive he was being. He was trying to do a good thing by telling her the truth, but in his typical fashion he fucked it up.

"W-why doesn't h-he l-love me?"

That was honestly not the type of reaction he was expecting. Just how twisted and warped did that piece of shit make her in their so called relationship?

"Hey..." He knew just how bad it was looking right now on the surface. Big, tough, and ugly Dean Ambrose making a little lamb of a girl sob her heart out in public. It sure wasn't gonna do him any favors or win over any guards if it continued.

"Come on Buttercup-"

"Sweetpea." Was all she could hiccup in a pedantic attempt to correct him as she furiously rubbed at her still leaking eyes.

"-Yeah sure. Sweetpea. I'm Dean." He introduced himself awkwardly.

"He's not worth those tears. Honestly. I've been his cellmate for like 6 weeks now and honestly I don't know how you do it. A little doll like you must be pretty tough if you could stand him for this long."

Dean had no idea what he was doing. He could barely talk to people he had known all his life for a minute or two but he was trying his best to console a complete stranger. She was a pretty stranger sure, but this would have normally been way out of his comfort zone.

There were a few things Dean Ambrose did not do: haunted houses, the internet, and feelings.

But for some reason, something in the back of his mind was telling him to make things right. That seeing this girl cry was the most wrong thing on the planet and it needed to stop. NOW.

"You're better off without him in your life. I mean you're out there and he's in here." He shrugged as he gestured to being behind the plate glass window. "Not really the best place to be."

"You're in there and you don't seem so bad" There it was. That naive and trusting nature that proved that she was too good for all the guys in that joint and throw in most of the men out in the world as well. The type of kindness that guys like Ciampa saw as weakness and latched onto.

"You so sure about that Buttercup?"

"Sweetpea!" She huffed childishly, much to his amusement.

"Yeah that's what I said." A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. When was the last time that Dean had cracked a joke? Hell when was the last time that Dean had laughed? It wasn't in the past six weeks that was for sure. But there was something about messing with the clearly agitated girl that got a kick out of him.

"But really though... Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Do you even want to listen to me whine?"

"Darlin' I got nowhere else to be right now..."

* * *

"Sorry Ma'am but visiting hours are over." The soft but stern voice of a prison guard had interrupted Sweetpea and Dean's ongoing conversation.

Two sets of eyes darted towards the respective clocks mounted on their walls and were shocked to see that they had talked for hours.

"Holy shit." Leaning back against his chair, a hand went to tap against his collarbone. A little character trait that Sweetpea had noticed he did more often than not.

"I haven't talked to someone this long in ages." Sweetpea had noted with the same amount of wonder. Not since all of her friends and family had practically disowned her for various reasons, but in the end it was always related to Ciampa. 

"I've never talked for this long." Dean had admit with no sense of doubt in his mind. While he was known to be a talker in his own right, he was not known for real back and forth conversations. Not like what they had just experienced, talking about anything and everything light hearted that they could think off for two relative strangers.

"I guess I should get going..." Dean stuck his thumb out and pointed behind him acting as if he had any say on where he was going. For a man stuck in jail, he still had his strange sense of humor. Sweetpea found herself really admiring the man for being able to keep his sense of identity. He was unapologetically himself despite what he was going through. Not like…

"Maybe I should just give him some time to think? Let him gather his thoughts? Have it all sink in?" Maybe all Ciampa needed was some time to reflect. Perhaps Sweetpea wasn't being very considerate of his own situation. Or maybe that was just Tommaso's selfishness nagging in the back of her mind.

"You do what you gotta do dollface." Dean shrugged, knowing full well that whatever he tried to warn or tell her in this fragile state would most likely be ignored. But he hoped for her sake that she would eventually shake out of that asshole's hold on her for good and wisen up. For her and that baby.

Slowly getting up from her chair, it was obvious that there was a heavy weight upon her shoulders and possibly a million different things going through her poor head at once. No person deserved all the shit that she was currently going through. 

"I really liked this chat. Thank you Dean. I-I… I hope to do it again sometime." Besides her boss at work and a few regular customers, no one really gave her the time of day or an ear for hearing. Dean was the first guy in a long time to just be kind to her with no ulterior motive. She truly appreciated that.

"You know where to find me, Sweetpea." Dean blinked in blank confusion for a moment. He didn't think that she would ever really go for that offer. But the thought of it was a nice sentiment he assumed.

She was just about to turn and finally make her leave when she stopped herself. An amused smile on her face that just seemed to light up the room. Her voice still soft through the two was receiver but melodic with joy.

"Want to know something funny?"

"What?"

"When I was at the Doctor's yesterday and they were talking about-... erm about my baby."

"Yeah?"

"Well they do this thing where they like compare the baby's size to something else. I'm not sure why. I guess to make everything feel more relatable I guess? First time mother and all. I have no idea how big a baby is this early-"

"Sweetpea-"

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"That's how big the baby is. A sweet pea... It's almost as if it was like fate."

"Yeah... Fate."

Dean Ambrose had never truly been one for fate or destiny. But when the word had come out of Sweetpea’s mouth, he guess it wasn’t such a bad thing to think about after all.


	12. Beastslayer's Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a goofy idea for short fic and it was gonna be funny in the beginning and funny in the end but somehow wrote only the middle and it ended up being kinda dramatic? Idk. Maybe I’ll get to writing the beginning and end eventually. Trust me the legit rest of the storyline here is kinda dumb and stupid but I had a real moment in the middle so… here is a sample I guess? It’s a Seth and OC kinda thing for now he calls her Princess for storyline reasons but maybe she’ll have a real name eventually.

“I’m making a promise to you Princess. I’m going to slay the beast and I’m going to rescue you from him.”

“This isn’t Game of Thrones, Seth.” She chuckled softly as her head tucked into the crook of his neck, inhaling the pure scent of his natural musk, sweat, and what could only be described as their joined passion.

“I’m not some damsel in distress that can easily be rescued. Just a dumb little girl who said yes to a bad deal and now I have to live with it.” She sighed, her eyes dulled slightly as the bleakness of her current situation had hit her. She once had such spark and passion for her work, but that was all taken away by that beast of a man. Seth couldn’t bare to see her that way. He just couldn’t.

His hand was just under her chin, tilting her head up so that she could stare into his warm chocolate eyes. There was something in his intense gaze that made the color look even more alive as if there were a storm of fury and devotion battling within them.

“Don’t say that. Do you ever talk about yourself that way Princess.” He growled gruffly, but it did not frighten her. She knew that his anger was not towards her but towards her misfortune.

“They dealt you a dirty hand and never gave you a chance to win. They’ve cheated the universe out of a real champion, they’ve cheated us in the back of an opportunity, and worse of all… they cheated you out of your potential.”

There was no denying it, she was good. One of the best. The day they tricked her into their deal was the day they cheated the women’s division out of a deserved women’s champion. A real competitor and credit to women’s wrestling. A woman who loved the business with her whole heart and would have given her body life and limb to give it her all. Because that’s what the people deserved. That was what the division deserved. And that was what she deserved. Not this. Not some glorified ring girl who stood pretty for a few minutes once a month (sometimes even less depending on how Brock was feeling) and pander towards an egotistical bag of human mayonnaise. It made Seth sick to his stomach.

“Come Wrestlemania, I’m going to slay the beast. I’m going to beat him so bad that he’ll run, cry, and never think of coming back. And I’m going to burn your contract, and you’re going to wrestle again. And we’ll be champs side by side. The way we were meant to be. Together.”

“I want to live in your fantasy world.” His world where beasts could be slain and he was the dashing hero that would come to her rescue and they live happily ever after. That was all she truly wanted in life. Ever after with him.

“It’s no fantasy, Princess. I’m making it reality. Believe that.” And with one last look he solidified his promise with a fiery kiss, filled with all the adoration and heartache he held for her. For once he wasn’t just fighting for himself. This time he was fighting for the girl he was madly head over heels in love with.


	13. Still Got It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got no idea what the fuck this is lol. Idk. It’s not that good. It was all a spur of the moment thing.

"Fuck." 

Is the only word that your mind could form as it dragged out of your lips as you laid on your back, staring blank at the ceiling. There was nothing there to be seen, it was just a place for you to pretend to focus on while your mind recovered from your fifth (and you assumed) final orgasm of the night. Or was it considered morning now as you could just barely make out the faint sunlight that threatened to peak from out of the Vegas hotel room blackout curtains.

Mox was mostly silent if not for the low panting that came as he tried to regain his breath after hours of vigorous fucking. Shifting your head slightly you caught sight of him in all his glory, his arms raised and hands tucked behind his head as he just basked in the glow of fresh sex. He looked like a god just exuding dominance and pride, even when he was lazily lounging on top of bunched up sheets and precariously thrown pillows.

His skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and no doubt other questionable fluids but you knew that none of that phased him. He often boasted of how he was a down and dirty man who did down and dirty things. And boy did he show you just how dirty he could be going down on you.

His body was littered with faint scars from horror stories of his past and present, each a tale of how he survived a nightmare and how it made him stronger for it. How it made him the man that laid beside you who you loved with all your heart. After your night of celebrations you knew that you had somewhat contributed to his museum of scars as your hand reached out to gently brush over the faint bite mark that was on display right between the juncture of his neck and shoulder. It was a war wound that he would no doubt wear with pride later on that day for all to see. You just knew that he would use it to goad the likes of Kenny Omega and Chris Jericho, the thought would have scandalized you if it had happened earlier in your relationship but Mox just had this way of pulling you out of your shell, turning you into the sexual minx that he just loved to get his hands on any time and anywhere.

You squealed in surprise as his head turned quickly and his teeth playfully snapped at your fingers. The low rumble of his chuckle radiated down his chest and softly shook you as it intertwined with your own light giggle. No matter what he went through, no matter how hard and violent he needed to be, there was still that wild and playful side of him that only you had the honor of seeing. Your Mox.

For the first time in what felt like ages, both your eyes met. It had looked as though the both of you had been carefully studying the other, just noting the aftermath of what you knew he could only describe as the "fuck sessions to end all fuck sessions", at least it let you feel rather satisfied that he was taking the time to do the same as you and with zero guilt or shame. With the smuggest grin, that you didn't even think was possible, formed on his lips, he closed his eyes and nodded his head.

"Oh yeah. Still fuckin' got it."


	14. Heatwave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Ok so this got naughty fast. I actually wrote the first part of this during my break at work because I saw the new Mox promo pics and was like hm… Then I wrote the much naughtier part during my walk home because work was stressful and I needed to just create something to keep me sane. So um.. Enjoy?))
> 
> Warning: NSFW kinda. Bad language, kinda sex? (Sex is happening but im bad at writing it so like yeah shrugs)

******Fic Inspo Pic:**

  


* * *

 

“You are being such an unbelievable cock right now!” She was absolutely seething as she stood tall and proud before her- well whatever the hell she could call the man before her.

“Last I checked, you **LIKED** my unbelievable cock.” There it was, that absolutely smug smirk that he had so easily adopted for the past couple of weeks since he had found his newfound freedom. That incredible smirk that made even her most intense of anger falter just a little.

Their voices seemed to echo through the halls which warded off any sane person. It seemed to be quite the reoccurring thing lately, Mox and his girl toe to toe in a heated shouting match, what about no one truly knew. If you asked, the two in question probably didn’t know or truly understand what they were arguing about either.It just seemed like a strange vehicle the “couple” used to get them to their end game, an intense and passionate make out against whatever surface they could find.

Definitely not safe for any work environment but at this point did anyone truly think that Mox gave a fuck anymore. He was too busy with better things in life, fighting and fucking. The two things that actually let him feel alive again.

* * *

 

“Oh god.” She grit her teeth to stop herself from publicly panting out loud in the deserted hall.

Her hands were palm flat against the cold concrete wall in a futile attempt at propping herself up but every time she just barely regained any sort of self control, his hips snapped from behind and his lazy but pointed thrust had her wanting for more.

“I-I hate you.” Her statement was weak both in volume and conviction. He didn’t need to see her face to know that there was no malice there.

“Nah. You don’t.” She could just envision him cheekily biting his tongue before he sent another lazy thrust her way

She couldn’t help but feel the hot shame of humiliation creep against her body as she knew that he was right. With each and every act of annoyance and defiance on both their parts, it only just spurred her more into loving him.

Even as he had her bent forward, taking her in a practically animalistic and territorial fashion, she only wanted him more.

Her fingers twitched and flexed as they hopelessly tried to grip onto anything but the flat surface of the wall denied her any satisfaction. He knew that she would want to touch him, claim him just as much as he was claiming her, he knew it was driving her crazy.

“Say it.” She could just barely feel his hot breath against the shell of her ear as he growled. She knew what he wanted her to say and another lick of hot humiliation lit up her body, this time in tandem with another thrust and the burn only drew out a whine of pleasure through her. He was challenging her. In his own way begging her in the way that he wanted her to beg for him. Both too proud to admit what they wanted out loud so they continued to play their game of cat and mouse. Or in this case, streetdog and pussy.


	15. Girls Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Well welcome back to the stage the old pairing of Dean and Darling! lol I had written a part of this like months ago as an add along to that snippet I originally wrote but just had no idea where to put it. Then I kinda just expanded on it because of this title… It really kinda just went down hill towards the end though. So sorry about that))

“One day… That’s gonna be a real ring on your finger.” He mused as they both struggled to catch their breath. Her head nestled to his chest, ear pressed just above where his heart was. Calmed by the still frantic but strong heartbeat. Hers was no doubt in perfect sync with his. His hand intertwined with her left, inspecting the cheaply made costume jewelry that turned her ring finger a garish green underneath the band.

“Not just some prop for sick pervs to use during their little fantasy. They WISH they could be married to you.” Just like how he wished he was. If only he had the courage to propose. There was so many times a man could stand aside and watch the love of his life pretend to be married to another man. In a way it was like his worst nightmare and the reminder that, if he fucked up he could end up losing her. 

“Who would want to marry a girl like me?” There was a reason that married men came crawling back each night to get a taste of the ‘single life’. Girls like her weren’t ones that got married. Not after choosing the lifestyle she chose.

It broke him inside to hear her actually ask that with such sincerity. How could she think such a thing? 

“The luckiest guy in the world, that’s who.” The man he wished that he was. The man worthy enough for her. 

“That’s a funny way of referring to yourself.” She mused softly, he often talked about her future and things that were best for her, but she often noted how he never mentioned him along with that. Though she knew his feelings for her and was confident in their love, it did worry her slightly that one day she might lose him. That he might see reason like every other man and she would be alone again, not worthy of the love they were lucky to share.

“I don’t deserve you Darlin’.” How could he? She was an angel, as gentle and kind as they got. He knew what he was. Or at least what they said about him. “Lunatic Fringe”. There was nothing good after being labeled that. 

But Darling didn’t care. The only thing on her one track mind was how much she had loved it when he called her “Darlin’.” The name was always so smooth yet gruff, like a fine whiskey. It was unique to only him which made it even more special in her mind. It was always her special mission to get him to call her by her name. It didn’t matter the context. Good or bad, it was always a win/win.

“But what about me? Don’t I get a say in what I do and do not deserve?" 

"Girls like you deserve more than guys like me.” He tried to argue weakly. He had been telling himself that same thing for months now since they had been together.

Her hand gently pulled away from his own so that she could cradle his cheek, facing her so that he could get a good look while she addressed him with so much confidence and conviction.

“Well tough luck Mr. Ambrose. This girl happens to be in love with you. You’re stuck with me.” She was leaving no room for him to argue. She was a woman who knew her heart and what she wanted, and for her it was him and him alone. 

“Is that your way of proposin’ to me? Not very traditional. Didn’t even get on one knee.” He didn’t mean for his next words to be such a cheeky quip, it was more of a defense mechanism to protect the both of them from their feelings. But as he felt the cold and jagged fake metal of her ring on his cheek, he knew that it was about time he took his chances.

“I’m sure you’d like it if I got down on my knees right now for you.” Her fingers carefully scratched at his stubbled cheek, something she knew helped him wind down from his stress and anxiety.

“Any other time? Yeah. Right now?… Let me beat you to it.” He was getting far too comfortable with her touches and it was practically lulling him to sleep after their post coital bliss, but now he was a man on a mission. His body was screaming at him for slowly pulling away from the tender loving comfort that was his Darlin’s body, but he had to make his way over to his side of their bed where he had half-hazardly tossed his pants that held an important item in his pocket for months. 

“Dean?"  Bringing herself to sit up and watch him with bated breath, her own hands shot up to cover her mouth as she gaped in surprise.

"I guess now is as good a time as ever…” He mused as his fingers played with the fuzzy fabric of the ring box.

“Be my Mrs. Ambrose?” His hands were shaking as he finally opened the box to reveal to her the ring that he knew at first sight was THE ring. The one that was meant to sit upon her finger and truthfully tell the world that she was finally taken.

Words could not form in her mind, let alone her mouth as her body shook with shivers of overwhelming joy. A strained sob tore from her lips before she leapt across the bed and showered his entire face with kisses. She truly was not expecting this. She had wanted him to propose desperately but never once did she think that it would happen. She would have been happy her entire life just having him by her side even as her sort of boyfriend, they didn’t need labels, just each other.

But she had to admit, Mrs. Ambrose had a lovely ring to it.


	16. Tan Lines (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((Disclaimer: NSFW. Sexual situations. I went overboard))
> 
> ((Ok so this got naughty. This got really naughty. I have no idea where this came from. It’s by no means any good. So like… brace yourself I guess?))

Home was where the heart was. Home was the last sanctuary from the world. A place of peace and comfort… Unless that home just so happened to be the Moxley’s residence.  
“Mox what the fuck?!”  
The man being questioned barely cracked an eye open as he laid in utter relaxation.  
“Sun bathin’.” He barely grunted out as he continued to soak up the sun in their backyard.  
“Naked?!” A grin spread across his features as he could practically envision the exasperated look on his wife’s face as she stood no doubt at the frame of the backdoor cross armed and sweating from the Nevada heat.  
“Tan lines.” Seemed to be his vague answer which only confused his wife more.  
“What?” Her hand went to her temple to try and calm the irritated heat and stress headache that was forming.  
“Wearing trunks again. No tan lines.” Now that he was starting to use words to explain himself, she could sort of see what he was getting at.  
“When have you ever cared about tan lines?”  
“Since you started to. You’re always giving me a show out here. ‘bout time I returned the favor.” His arms were now up and over his head, giving her a good display of his lean and trim body, just glistening from the sweat and golden heat. She had to bite her lip and take a sharp breath as a bead of sweat traced down his abs and towards his happy trail.  
“Just don’t get a sunburn on your dick.” She shook her head to try and rid herself of her more unsavory thoughts at the moment. While they were lucky to live in a walled off and private home, they had been known to spark the odd noise complaint from their more scandalous of “lovin’ time” as he liked to phrase it in the politest way that Mox could the rare times they were home.  
He was so quiet that for a moment she had thought that he had taken an infamous Mox nap (he really could just pass out anywhere and any time when he wanted to), until she saw him crack open his eye again and turn to her.  
“… can that happen?” He wondered slowly before he stared down at his most prized of body parts trying to compare it’s color to what it had probably looked like previous.  
“…” She could only shake her head and decide that it was too damn hot outside to deal with him as she turned around to head back inside.  
“Baaaaaaaaabe.” His gruff but sinfully smooth voice called out for her and made her stop in her tracks. She knew that tone of voice. He wanted something from her.  
“What?” She spun around to try and give him her best annoyed look but her mouth went dry and her resolve was gone as he now laid on his side on the pool chair. One leg laid flat while the other up and bent to frame his now attentive cock that stood tall and proud for her. He looked like a classic nude sculpture made of marble and sin.  
“I forgot my sunscreen. Lend me a hand?”

* * *

 

“Oh fuck!” His head lulled back as his body laid limp and panting while his cock was hard and at the mercy of his wife’s firm grip. Usually he was the one in charge. The one to show his dominance and set the pace and satisfaction of either of their sexual desires. But on off days like this, in the privacy of their own home, he let himself have a break and be taken care of by the one woman brave enough to have him.  
While the desert heat licked against his bronzing skin, the soft skin of her hand mixed with the cooling cream of the sun block made him shiver with pleasure with each and every certain stroke down his shaft.  
She couldn’t tell if he was aware of how his body was yearning for her touch. How his hips needily tried to meet her fist with each completion of a stroke. How her wrist just barely grazed at his tightened sack that told her just how close he was.  
“You needed this huh baby?” Her voice was low and coy as her grip shifted and she added a subtly twisting motion around him while her free hand reached out to take a harsh grip of his head (she silently mourned the loss of his longer hair for they truly enjoyed a good hair pull every now and then but she had to admit this style did suit him), which only brought out a wanting pant from his open mouth. He didn’t bother trying to be decent as he was vocal about his wants.  
“Fuck. Please. More.” He just needed a little more. No other woman would ever get to hear this side of him. Leave him a yearning slut for her personal pleasure.  
“Such a good boy.” She praised and purred as she just watch her big strong man slowly come undone for her. Her body was bent down hovering over him on the chair, her head pressed against his own’s side, whispering soft and dirty words of encouragement. No matter who was in charge, they both loved a good verbal praise.  
“Cum baby. Cum.” She all but commanded before her face bent down to bury her face into the crook of his neck and her teeth bared and sank into the flesh of his neck.  
“FUCK!” His hips stalled as his cock twitched under her fingers, veins pulsing as ropes of hot thick white cum poured out onto his heaving chest. But her stroking didn’t stop at that. Her hand only moved faster and coaxed out every last drop of cum from his swollen tip and he had to weakly try and bat her off his swollen member. She considered it payback for the countless times he would fuck her through multiple orgasms and overstimulate her into “Mox Cock Madness” as he crudely phrased it.  
“Clean yourself up. Those will leave streaks you won’t be able to explain.” While her voice was feigning dismissiveness, they both knew that she was still playing a character of sorts as she casually tossed a clean pool towel his way. The game wasn’t quite over yet. They knew that round two was just around the corner and preferably inside this time.  
“Luv ya.” She could hear the sex laced exhaustion in his voice as he lazily wiped at the mixture of sun block, sweat, and cum from off of his body.


End file.
